


Reunited

by Perversioni



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (They're Wedges To Be Honest), ALL THE KINKS, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, And you know who's the one who has them, BDSM, Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, Birthday Spanking, Blow Jobs, But I Don't Know Your Standards So, Butt Plugs, Crossdressing, Crying, Deepthroating, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, High Heels, I Honestly Don't Know If This Is More Porn Or More Feelings, It's Steve Birthday, J.A.R.V.I.S. Won't Judge Any Of Tony's Kinks, Kinks, Kissing, Lace Panties, Leather Jackets, Light BDSM, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Lots of kissing, M/M, Manhandling, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oh My GOD This Is The Filthiest Thing I've Ever Written, Okay I Didn't Know That Was A Tag But It's Probably Applicable To This Fanfic, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Panties, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, Steve Actually Folds Tony's Panties When They're Done, That's Just Who He Is, There's A Mention Of Pizza Margherita In There, White Panties, Yeah there's definitely some fluff in there, hehe, just a little bit, just to be on the safe side, kind of, this is why I'm going to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 12:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17224187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perversioni/pseuds/Perversioni
Summary: If Tony closes his eyes for a moment, he can feel the lace where it's resting against his half-hard cock.When he opens them again, though, he can immediately hear Steve walking inside the house; his heart starts hammering in his chest even harder than it did before, leaving his head spinning and his mouth gasping in surprise. But he steels himself as he hears Steve walking closer, closer and closer and closer to the kitchen, and he barely makes it in time to take his cake out of the fridge – fully knowing Steve will completely disregard it, and it will end up to waste – before he takes a deep breath and thinks: I'm Tony Stark. I was born to do this.He puts on his mask of confidence – although a different one from his Iron Man one – and smiles already.And then Steve walks in.





	Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to write 12K of pure porn while desperately studying for university exams, and English isn't even my first language. I bet my ancestors would be proud. (Or not)
> 
> Just a few notes if you want to visualize things better:
> 
> Steve's jacket:  
> (1) https://www.thefashionisto.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Chris-Evans-2017-LUomo-Vogue-Photo-Shoot-004.jpg 
> 
> Tony's eye make up:
> 
> (2) https://media.giphy.com/media/3o6fIZxl5MIAnPSL2E/giphy.gif &  
> (3) https://gfycat.com/gifs/detail/EnviousSplendidBirdofparadise &  
> (4) https://thumbs.gfycat.com/ThisCourteousDalmatian-size_restricted.gif  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cd/c6/d1/cdc6d122fdd2665c742647501b68abd3.jpg  
> (5) http://th.cineblog.it/UbHJBkRjugi4NFfB3Ztm3qsfPcg=/fit-in/655xorig/http%3A%2F%2Fmedia.cineblog.it%2Fr%2Frob%2Frobert-downey-jr-film%2Fchaplin-screenshot.jpg 
> 
> Last but not least, I fully blame my special babe D. for everything I've written down here. It's all on them. And please let me know if you spot any mistakes in the comments (as I've said: not a native English speaker, hello. Have a pizza).
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony's hand is trembling so bad that he's already had to re-apply his eyeliner three times.

He wishes he could blame his nipple pumps where they're awkwardly sucking his skin out, wishes he could say that it's just that they're bothering him and distracting him from drawing a goddamn _good_ line across his eyelids, but that would be a terrible lie. He's planned this night for _months_ , but he's still more nervous than when he had his first time.

When he finally manages to do both his eyes well enough, he can't help but sigh out loud in relief. He moves on to applying his mascara, then his eye pencil in the inner parts of his lids; he's already laid some concealer and some foundation on his face, given up on using brushes and applying cool eye shadows, and now there's only one thing missing.

He swallows loudly in the big, empty room, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a moment. It takes him a few minutes before he nods to himself and takes the lipstick from the desk in front of him; it's just a nice, deep shade of red, cherry flavored and, if the label says the truth, water-resistant.

Well. Tony just mostly hopes it's _saliva_ -resistant, thank you very much. He'll need that when he's on his knees in, well –

Fifteen minutes, approximately. He swallows again, willing his heart to stop hammering like that.

He finally applies the lipstick, slow and careful despite the very little time he has left to get dressed up and prepare himself for what's going to happen. He's already styled his hair; he has left it grow in the last eleven weeks, and then he has cut it slightly with a razor on a side, while leaving the other one and the hair at the top of his head intact. He has curled his hair a little on the top of his head, too, so that now it looks a little softer – a little more feminine.

He has absolutely _hated_ being stuck home alone for even longer than two months, recovering from a nasty wound until just one week ago. And, albeit his first thought when walking back inside his home after weeks and weeks and _weeks_ of being hospitalized definitely was to put a hand between his thighs and finally jerk off, he realized pretty soon after getting his fingers wet with lube that, _well_ , Steve's birthday was coming up in just a few weeks.

So he had washed his hands before they could come any closer to his cock – or ass – , put the lube away, and ordered a few juicy items from an online store.

He finally stands up from where he was seated, taking a deep breath before removing his nipple pumps. It's a bit painful, but it's definitely worth it; his nipples look a lot bigger, much puffier, and proudly pointing forward. Steve is going to _love_ them.

The next step is much more difficult. Barely recovered from his main wounds – one on the side of his chest, another one at his ankle – and still limping, he'd hurried up to a tattoo shop a few days ago and got his nipples pierced.

It's just, he's seen the way Steve stared at those when Tony showed him an old picture of himself in his teenage years, alright? He had first gotten one of his nipples pierced when he was twenty-one, thinking it would be fun and everything until he realized it hurt a little too badly, and had to go to the hospital in a rush to avoid a nasty infection. (To his defense, or maybe not so much, he had gotten the piercing done by a friend of his completely unqualified for the job, in a hurry, and being drunk off his ass.)

He hadn't realized it had hurt so much during the first time (because, once again: he was so drunk that he barely remembers how the night went at all), so he couldn't help but wincing in pain when the goddamn metal bars passed through his nipples. Still worth it, though.

“Ten minutes, sir,” says J.A.R.V.I.S., and Tony would feel embarrassed at what he's going to do if only the AI hadn't seen much worse in all its years of existence. So Tony doesn't even blink in uneasiness when he takes off his pants, bends down slightly, sucks on his index finger for as long as he can allow himself to, and then circles his hole with it.

He groans at the feeling – god, he's missed this so _bad_. He's warm, and tight, and he keeps thinking of how much Steve will enjoy that tightness after _months_ of disuse; Tony has kept himself tight and hungry for the entire duration of Steve's absence just for him, so that he'll _love_ ramming his cock inside him, tighter than the first time he fucked him and so, so much more _eager_ –

Tony forces himself to stop thinking about it, his cock already half-hard, and just – _slowly, carefully_ – presses his finger inside his body once, twice, before removing it entirely. He takes the tiniest, narrowest butt-plug from his desk – where it was sitting as a _very_ exciting reminder of what was to come next after his little make up session – , and gently pushes it inside.

He has to take a deep breath immediately after; he's never gone so long without something inside him, and with so little lubrication, it fucking _hurts_. He grabs the edge of the desk with both of his hands after he's done, and waits for the uneasiness to pass as he just focuses on his breathing.

When it does, there's very little more to do. He slips into his white band – nothing more than just a narrow patch of fabric going around his hips, and an even thinner one going in between his cheeks – and then into his white lacy panties, and finally grins at his reflection in the mirror.

Damn, that looks good.

Tony glances at the digital clock on the desk; five minutes. He hurries up to slide the metal bars back through the, _whelp_ – very much responsive skin of his nipples after all the pumping, apparently, and walks to the front door in a rush, still barefoot, finally sliding into his knee-high, inner-wedged black leather boots.

They're very simple; no decoration, no fabric pattern, no shoelaces whatsoever. He'd have put on something more _eccentric_ , yeah, but he's not so sure Steve would appreciate that.

Well. He's not even sure Steve will appreciate any of _this_.

He takes Steve's long, beautiful leather jacket before heading to the kitchen; the one he never wears, because he finds it a little bit _too much_ , what with the zippers and the studs and the general bad-boy look. So naturally, he wears it only during their secret dates – because no-one would think Captain America would wear something like _that_.

Tony is one hundred percent sure he'll wear it much more, after tonight.

Everything is finally ready, and so is Tony. He gives himself one last glance in the mirror, and waits.

He thinks of his poor feet trapped inside the boots, where his ankle is still wrapped in a little bandage and hurts at every step – especially because of the heels – , but he regrets nothing. Steve's been so good, he always _is_ so good, so gentle and caring and so generous, sending him surprise gifts even when he's busy fighting the newest battle a thousand miles away. (Plus, he always fucks him so well.)

Tony shivers where the leather grazes against his nipples; he hasn't really zipped the jacket close, but he has definitely made sure it keeps covering the entirety of his hips – and what's directly underneath them – and the sides of his chest, so that Steve will have no idea of what's under the leather until he undresses him. What he will see when he comes home is Tony covered from shoulder to thigh in his bad-boy looking leather jacket and wearing a knee-high pair of boots, with just a patch of tanned skin visible between the two parts of his outfit.

If Tony closes his eyes for a moment, he can feel the lace where it's resting against his half-hard cock.

When he opens them again, though, he can immediately hear Steve walking inside the house; his heart starts hammering in his chest even harder than it did before, leaving his head spinning and his mouth gasping in surprise. But he steels himself as he hears Steve walking closer, closer and closer and _closer_ to the kitchen, and he barely makes it in time to take his cake out of the fridge – fully knowing Steve will completely disregard it, and it will end up to waste – before he takes a deep breath and thinks: _I'm Tony Stark. I was born to do this._

He puts on his mask of confidence – although a different one from his Iron Man one – and smiles already.

And then Steve walks in.

“ _Happy birthday, sugar_ ,” Tony says, batting his eyelashes once, slowly, while grinning proudly up at him. Steve is just staring, stopping dead in his tracks.

And staring.

And staring.

And _staring_.

Tony swallows, feeling his smile falter. Oh god, he's read him entirely wrong, hasn't he? And Steve hasn't even seen _half_ of his demise. It's the heels, isn't it – Tony knew they were too much, too feminine – or is it the fucking make up? The _lipstick_? Is it the fact that everything Steve sees – well, also what he _doesn't_ see – is completely shaved off? Is it –

“Alright, abort plan,” Tony chokes out, losing his relaxed stance in less than a second. He was grabbing the kitchen isle with both his hands, leaning into it with his back and with his ankles lightly crossed in front of him, but he's feeling anything but relaxed right now. “This was a stupid idea. Let's just pretend I didn't completely fuck your birthday up and – ”

“Tony,” Steve whispers, literally _whispers_ , so low Tony wouldn't even register the noise if only he hadn't seen his lips moving, “stop. This is – this is perfect.”

Tony gulps, not reassured yet despite Steve's words. He's suddenly very aware of the jacket sleeves partially covering his hands up to his knuckles, and can't help but feel grateful for that; for the light feel of comfort the fabric simply gives him. But he's suddenly also very aware of how much the boots are pressing against his bandaged, still very painfully hurting right ankle. “Is it?”

“Of course it is,” Steve says, a trembling smile spreading across his mouth as he speaks. “You – you look so different,” he mutters, walking closer to him.

Tony can feel his body tensing up instinctively under Steve's scrutiny, but he forces himself to relax and swallow down his insecurity as much as he can. “It's. It's the make up, Steve.”

Steve looks hesitant to raise his arm, but when he does, he touches the side of his thumb to Tony's lips and barely grazes at them with it. “Can I?” He asks, looking Tony in the eyes for a moment.

“Yeah,” Tony breathes out, nodding a little too quickly. “It's, it's supposed to resist through a lot, of, um, _action_ , which I'm hoping it _will_ do, since, you know, the plans for tonight kinda mostly involve a lot of kissing and sucking and – ”

Steve silences him when he presses his thumb lightly inside his mouth, not so much as to make contact with his tongue but surely enough to graze at his teeth. It's more than sufficient to make Tony stop speaking.

“You look so swell,” Steve says, voice weak with delight as he looks at the eyeliner across Tony's eyelids, at his styled hair, and back at his red-painted lips. He glances at the cake on the table for a moment. “The cake looks good, too.”

“Oh, shut up,” Tony says, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss, definitely not wanting this very sexy moment to be spoiled by l'antisesso that he is. This is no right time to eat a damn birthday cake – unless that's an euphemism for his very tasty, very perfect bubble butt, obviously.

Steve chuckles against his lips, but Tony is determined to shut him up for good. His fingers intertwine with the blonde hair at the base of Steve's neck and pull him _in_ with a little too much strength, but Steve doesn't seem to mind; Tony's other hand travels across his arm, from Steve's wrist to his shoulder and then up to his jaw, cupping it as he kisses him harder. Steve's hands slowly grab onto his hips, and Tony moans softly into his mouth as he rolls them against Steve's.

The jacket zipper unexpectedly presses against his very much exposed cock – lace doesn't really put much of a shield ( _the irony!_ ) against it – , and the harsh, unanticipated friction steals his breath away. It's quick, and painful, and Steve rolls his hips against Tony's again and Tony gasps out loud, loving every single second of that sweet, sweet torture.

“What's this?” Steve mutters, pulling away from the kiss to nuzzle softly at his neck. “Hmm. Smells so good,” he mumbles, lips brushing vaguely at the tender skin of Tony's throat. Seems like someone has a taste for expensive perfume.

Tony throws his head back, exposing his throat further, and Steve doesn't waste a second; one of his hands leaves Tony's hips to cup his jaw instead, his thumb touching the opposite side of Tony's neck to angle his face as he pleases and then press _hard_ against his jugular vein, where he can feel Tony's heart hammering wildly.

“I've missed you so bad, Tony,” Steve murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck and then trailing his way down his throat, biting at it gently until Tony's hips roll against his on their own accord. “Oh, _god_ ,” Tony gasps, pain and pleasure mixing again so perfectly, “I missed you too, Steve, so fucking much – ”

Steve's lips come back against his own, catching his mouth to kiss him again. His tongue grazes at his bottom lip and Tony doesn't waste a second in allowing him to deepen the kiss, sighing in relief against his mouth when their tongues finally meet again after _months_.

Tony is loving every moment of this; it's clear that Steve is just as eager as he is, because he's barely containing his strength when he grabs the side of Tony's thigh and lifts it to wrap around his hip, and then _pulls_ on his hair to expose his throat even further; Tony gasps, the sudden pain completely unexpected – Steve almost never pulls on his hair, finding the gesture disrespectful where Tony finds it a huge turn-on instead – as Steve leaves his mouth to kiss just under his Adam's apple, and then pushes him backwards until Tony's lying down on the kitchen isle.

Tony lifts his other thigh to wrap it around Steve's hips along with the other one, trapping Steve in between his legs and sinking his nails in the back of Steve's neck as he bites down at his throat again. He lets him rut against him as much as he wants to, gasping every time the jacket zipper presses harshly against his cock, until the moment when he catches the sudden curiosity flashing in Steve's eyes.

He's caught a glimpse of Tony's nipple piercings.

“Tony?” He mumbles, even as Tony looks down to himself and makes sure the jacket is completely covering the sides of his chest again. “What – ”

Tony shuts him up with a kiss. “Bedroom,” he briefly replies.

Steve doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs hold of Tony's hips, and lifts him up with zero effort; Tony immediately wraps his thighs around Steve's waist, humming pleasantly underneath his breath when he feels Steve's hands moving eagerly across his butt – not quite stroking it and not quite grabbing it either, especially since he can't properly cup Tony's ass over the leather. Tony smirks against Steve's mouth as he hears him groaning in complain, and covers his hands with one of his own before they can slide underneath the leather.

“ _Bedroom_ ,” he repeats against his lips, biting into them softly just after. Steve hauls him up bodily against him, so suddenly and with so much strength that Tony just can't help but let out a very un-mainly squeal.

Steve chuckles at the sound, and Tony lightly slaps his arm in protest; he then cups his face with both of his hands, outrage already forgotten, trusting Steve to follow the path upstairs without tripping over something and potentially killing them both. (Or just Tony. Tony is _not_ a super-soldier.)

Steve finally lays him down on the mattress, and Tony can't fucking wait to get out of his goddamn jacket and his goddamn boots. His poor ankle is begging for mercy.

But he can't wait to undress Steve even more; his hands travel down Steve's chest and grab onto his shirt firmly, pulling it over Steve's head and then moving onto his pants, taking them off in just a quick move. He can hear Steve toeing his own shoes off while he bites hard on Tony's lower lip, almost tearing blood, and then he's finally naked.

God, Tony's missed all the super-soldier glory.

He takes a brief moment to marvel at the beauty of Steve's sculpted chest, trailing gentle fingertips up and down his torso. Steve stares down at him, waiting for him to be done – ever so patient – as Tony's eyes take in his gorgeous features once again.

He strokes up Steve's back, feeling the tense muscles relax underneath his touch. He follows the planes of his shoulders, then sinks his fingers back into his blonde hair.

“I've missed you,” he says again, barely a whisper against his lips. There's no heat of the moment; just his eyes avoiding Steve's gaze, a fragile moment of vulnerability when Tony lets his heart be seen.

He can feel _Steve's_ heart swell in his chest, feel his hand lifting to stroke his cheek gently. Steve kisses him softly, with the sort of reverence that Tony needs during slow, intimate nights of love-making, when he stops pretending that all he wants is _fun_ , mindless sex, and finally allows himself to fall in love with Steve again, and again, and again.

But that's not the right moment for that; they'll make love later, at the first light of dawn, when their thirst will be sated and their bodies won't be aching so bad to be one again. Tony pulls gently at Steve's hair, letting him know that he needs this too bad to content himself with just some passionate kissing, and Steve chuckles and rolls his hips against his and –

Tony catches the exact moment Steve feels the fabric of his panties against his naked skin. His lips stop moving mid-kiss, and he lets out a quiet gasp of surprise.

Tony's heart jumps in his throat. Will he like it? Will he stare at the white lace in adoration, or will he absolutely hate it? They've never talked about lingerie. Tony doesn't have a _clue_ of what Steve will think of the panties.

But _god_ , does he want to find out.

Steve pulls away from the kiss; he tries to get a glimpse of what's under the jacket, lowering his chin to glance at Tony's thighs, but Tony firmly grabs his chin to bring his gaze back to his.

They stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds, neither of them dropping their gaze. Tony smirks lazily, pleased by the challenge – and by the way Steve never backs off from one – and pulls his chin back towards him, kissing him again.

“Take this jacket off me,” he murmurs against his lips.

Steve doesn't do that first, though; he's still kissing him when Tony feels his hands taking off his boots instead, ever so mindful of his comfort and well-being. His hand wraps around his bandaged ankle for a moment, the touch loving and caring, as if he's thanking him for the trouble he went through just to please him.

Steve doesn't say _I love you_ , but Tony can hear it anyway.

Steve's hands come back up in sight, but they linger on Tony's chest for a moment instead of undressing him already; Tony pulls away from the kiss, sending a curious glance at him. What is he hesitating for?

“Everything okay?” He asks, as curiosity turns into sudden worry. There's _no way_ Steve hasn't understood what Tony is wearing; you can't mistake the way lace feels against your skin.

Maybe he just doesn't want to see it. Maybe he just won't humour him this time, because maybe he finds this weird of fucked up or maybe even _disgusting_ –

“Just wanted to look at you again,” Steve says quietly, and smiles gently down at him.

Tony's heart swells in his chest.

“Shut up,” he mutters, embarrassed, pulling him into a kiss again. “God, will you please undress me already? You're killing me here. There's your huge, gorgeous cock out in the open while mine is still trapped underneath this jacket and it just, it seems a lot unfair, alright – ”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly, and finally _moves_.

He doesn't properly take Tony's jacket off, but he does pull the two sides of it apart just enough to reveal Tony's chest; Tony can hear his breath stutter all of a sudden at the sight he reveals, his whole body tensing for a moment as he stares at the two metal bars sliding through his nipples, kept in place by two very tiny metal orbs.

They're simple. No color; just a plain, shining shade of gray.

“How,” Steve mumbles, looking at how puffy and rosy his nipples look. “How did you – is this _safe_?”

Tony chuckles, impatient and quite exasperated. “Don't worry about it.”

“God, _Tony_ ,” Steve calls, pure adoration in his voice. “You really...”

“You can touch me, you know,” Tony cuts him off, grabbing his biceps with his hands. “Come on. _Please_.”

Steve nods slowly, pulling the sides of the jacket further apart. It still remains zipped at the base; still covering Tony's hips and part of his thighs, so that Steve can't yet see the panties he's wearing. He kisses Tony again, briefly, and then finally grazes at his nipples with his fingertips.

Tony whimpers. Steve sends him an inquiring look, immediately stopping dead in his tracks.

“Just – just sensitive,” Tony murmurs, swallowing. “Pumped 'em for a while. Please keep going.”

Steve doesn't look convinced. “You'll tell me if anything hurts,” he says, and it's not a question.

Tony groans, letting his head fall back to the pillow in exasperation. Big, blonde and absolutely dumb – of _course_ it will be painful! Tony _loves_ it!

“I will, I will,” he says, just to humour him. “Steve, I swear to god, if you don't touch me in the next five seconds – ”

And that's when Steve, the absolute _bastard_ , tweaks his nipple.

The pain is so sudden and so _intense_ that Tony's whole body spasms, his eyes snapping open and his nails sinking into the blankets. He feels like the breath has been punched directly out of his lungs.

“Too much?” Steve asks.

“Do it again,” Tony replies.

And Steve _does_. He pinches Tony's other nipple, and Tony has to bite hard on his own lower lip to keep himself from swearing out loud.

(Steve doesn't really like when he swears, and it's his fucking birthday today.)

“Do it again,” Tony repeats, completely breathless, already a quivering mess on the mattress. He distantly registers Steve muttering a praise at him, but then Steve's circling both his nipples with the pads of his fingers now and _god_ , his skin is _so_ tender, even that gentle touch makes everything so _painful_. Steve's always hesitant to hurt him, to explore Tony's kinks when they have to do with violence, but this – this is perfect. Tony simply has to make sure Steve doesn't realize just how painful all of it is.

Steve's thumbs run across the length of the metal bars sliding through the skin of his nipples, and he keeps staring at the two metal orbs at the end of them with absolute fascination. He presses against one of those tentatively, sliding the metal bar a little to the opposite side, and Tony yelps in pain.

He's worried Steve will ask him if he's alright again, so he speaks out before Steve can. “Green,” he blurts out, “I – I'll tell you if it's too much. Promise. Keep doing _that_ – ”

His voice breaks on the last word and turns into a high-pitched squeal, because that's when Steve suddenly lowers his head and teases at his right nipple with his tongue.

The sudden wetness on his very sensitive, very _raw_ skin sends his nipple on fire, and Tony's first instinct is to scream _red, red, red!_ , but then the pain dulls a little and he holds his breath as long as he can, forcing himself to calm down, while Steve still gently flicks the tip of his nipple with his tongue.

Tony does grab Steve's shoulders, though. If the pain gets suddenly unbearable, he needs to be able to push him away.

When Steve moves a little to the opposite side of his chest to pay some attention to his other nipple, too, Tony lowers his head briefly and catches a glimpse of the nipple Steve's just stopped teasing. He gulps at how _red_ it looks; it's aching as Steve's saliva cools down on it, and Tony gasps as Steve gets started on his other nipple just as his fingers go back to teasing the one Tony's staring at it, giving it a firm twist.

Tony moans loudly, throwing his head back to the pillow. Steve pinches the soft, tender meat of his nipple, presses it between his fingers where the skin hurts the most, and it feels like he could _tear_ it apart in a second.

Tony's cock is rock-hard and still trapped in those fucking white lacy panties, _white!_ , like he's a virgin or something. Steve is hopefully going to gulp and hesitate before taking them off him, and then Tony's going to joke about purity and all that shit and –

Steve bites down on his nipple.

The pain is intense, _too_ intense, and Tony pushes against Steve's shoulders before he can even manage to say _red!_ , and Steve immediately pulls away. He stares at Tony, worry clear in his eyes even as his pupils are blown wide and his eyes are looking so _black_ , until Tony finally catches his breath and makes a hand gesture at him, allowing him to get back to his chest.

“Again,” he whispers, eyes wet. “Just – be gentler. _Please_.”

Steve nods once, and kisses him to soothe him. One of his hands immediately strokes Tony's tummy tenderly, feeling the soft skin of his stomach under his palm as his other hand caresses Tony's jaw, sweet and warm and reassuring.

Tony pulls away from the kiss a little, just enough to let Steve know that he's alright, that he can keep going. Steve licks his own lower lip, nods briefly again, and then gets back to his chest.

He doesn't immediately bite at his skin again, and Tony is thankful for that. He resumes teasing his nipples with his tongue, with the pads of his fingers; it's only when Tony is breathing normally again that he lets his teeth run around the tip of his nipples, not biting yet, just testing the waters.

Tony arches his chest, pushing his own skin into Steve's mouth. He wants it, _god_ , he wants it. His body wants that pain again, wants it to run up and down its own entirety, and it wants it so _desperately_. Steve's free hand strokes his hip gently, soothing him when Tony gets so impatient that he doesn't even register the whimpers he's letting out of his mouth, and then finally _bites_.

The pain is _overwhelming_ , so intense that Tony gasps loudly out again, but this time his hands do not push Steve away; his nails sink deep in his shoulder, though, tearing blood, and Steve barely flinches as he just keeps biting down at his skin, pulling at his nipple and then letting it go.

“Steve,” Tony moans, holding back the tears. It's so good, it's, so, _good_. He's missed the pain so bad – missed the feeling of his skin being on fire, missed the full-body ache that he'll wake up to in the morning. The soft skin around his nipples is _red_ and incredibly swollen, his nipples hard and still pointing forward, and Tony thinks they should definitely do this again some time soon.

“You're so good for me, Tony,” Steve mutters, kissing him gently as he recognizes Tony's need of support. “So good for me.”

Tony sniffles quietly. Steve kisses his lips again, then kisses his forehead, and _then_ finally kisses one of his nipples as softly as he can; he sucks the other one in his mouth for a moment, Tony moaning quietly as his reddened skin begs for mercy, and then blows a hot puff of air slowly against it.

Tony feels the wetness on his skin cooling down again, and can't help but gasp softly. Steve kisses this one nipple as well, then presses his lips against the center of his chest – where nothing aches, and everything is in working order – right around his arc reactor, and finally comes back to his lips.

“You're amazing,” he murmurs against his mouth, kissing it again. “I can't believe you did all of this for me.”

Tony chuckles wetly. “Of course I did. Just – ”

The jacket zipper fucking abruptly grazes at his nipples again, and Tony's eyes widen in pain. “Please, take this thing off me before I start crying,” he hurriedly says.  
  


There's some truth in the joking, and Steve is quick to comply. And that's when he finally, finally sees –

When he finally sees the white, lacy panties.

Tony can hear Steve's breath as it catches in his throat, cutting his air flow in half so abruptly that even Tony worries for a second. And then Steve's eyes snap back to his own, and he blinks and stares and stares and stares and _stares_ –

“Panties,” he finally says.

Tony didn't think it was possible, but Steve's pupils are even _more_ blown now than they were before. They've almost completely swallowed the blue of his eyes; so he _does_ like them, and that's all Tony needs to know what to do.

“Hmm, _hmm_ ,” he hums, wrapping his arms lazily around Steve's neck and smiling leisurely up at him. “Do you like them?”

Not that Steve can see much of them as it is – Tony knows that the _back_ part is the best part – , but a little teasing has never hurt anyone, right?

Steve doesn't even answer. He's staring at Tony's face, astonished, and isn't even blinking.

So Tony does the only rational thing, cupping the back of Steve's head to pull him closer, to pull his face down until he can whisper in his ear.

“ _I want you to eat me out without taking them off_ ,” he says against his skin.

Steve groans out loud, pulling his face away to kiss him again; Tony lets himself be kissed and waits until Steve has had enough of his lips before turning around, sending one last smirk at Steve before laying down on his stomach.

He supports his own chest with his elbows, unwilling to let his poor nipples graze against the blankets. God, he doesn't even want to _think_ about how painful that would be. “You haven't answered yet,” he purrs, angling his face just right so that he can keep looking at him, “do you like them, sugar?”

“I do,” Steve mumbles, swallowing down. “God, Tony, all of this is – ”

_Amazing?_ , Tony thinks. _Incredible? Fantastic? The best ass you'll ever see?_

_Yeah. Of course it is._

Not that he can see his own butt from where he's laying, but he can watch Steve's face as he keeps staring at it and that's all he needs to see to know what Steve thinks. Steve's hands slowly grab his hips, resting lightly – if barely – just a inch above the curve of his ass.

He's looking at the way the lacy fabric hugs the tanned softness of his cheeks, the lace and the color pure and _virginal_ against Tony's skin. There's a white patch of fabric underneath the panties, just a narrow line of white going in between his globes, and Steve hasn't yet noticed what lies just below it.

“Gonna keep staring at it only, love?” Tony asks, knowing full well how much Steve adores sweeter pet names. “Why don't you touch it instead? Give it a firm, _good_ hold? Spank it a little – make it look all _red_ underneath the white fabric, hmm?”

He hears Steve's breath catch in his throat again. “God, Tony,” he mutters, his voice sounding weak. He doesn't say anything else, but then again – Tony knows his ass would leave most people speechless.

“Just a heads-up,” he says, his voice suddenly so low. “Steve. Look at me.”

Steve does, lifting his gaze up to Tony's eyes. Tony blinks slowly, smiles at him charmingly, and _whispers_ , “have a closer look, honey.”

Steve doesn't immediately register the meaning of the sentence, but when he does, Tony sees him gulp before he actually does as he's told. His hands trail slowly down Tony's ass, caressing the soft lace as they go, testing the roundness and softness of his bottom with a firm, yet _so_ devoted hand, and then –

Then he pulls his cheeks apart, and Tony's red jewel butt-plug peers out to his eyes.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, and Tony smiles triumphantly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ – ”

“Later,” Tony grins lazily, bringing one of his hands on top of Steve's. “Happy birthday, beloved.”

If Steve was Tony, he would say _gonna eat this cake and blow off the candles, too_ , but Steve isn't Tony. Steve is Steve, and the first thing Steve does is leaning down to kiss him until his lips tingle.

“I'm going to take that as a _thank you, Tony, I love your butt more than anything in the world_ ,” Tony sing-songs, imitating the sound of Steve's voice as Steve sits back down on his ankles. Tony sends him an adoring look despite his mocking – he's so happy Steve is as much as a pervert as he is, even if he attempts to hide it, really. “What are you going to do with it first, darling? Give it a good slap? _Bite it_? You know I'd let you do it. I'd let you do _anything_ ,” he says softly.

Steve pulls his cheeks apart again, and Tony sighs quietly at the feeling of the hard pads of his fingers sinking into his tanned skin. “Tell me, love. Don't you think you should spank me? I think you should spank me. All this white, all this lace – too good of an opportunity to pass up, right? _Hmm_. You could spank me until I cry, and then take a photo. Keep you company when you're away, yeah, baby? Wrap your hand around your cock, look at my red, sore ass on your phone, and think of how hard you'll fuck me when you get back, right, sugar?”

Steve exhales a slow, shaky breath. Tony clenches his muscles, knowing Steve must still be staring at the red jewel butt-plug inside him, and feeling it sink a little deeper into his body. “I'm so tight,” he murmurs, because it's true, and because it _hurts_. “Can't wait 'til you open me up.”

Steve is still unresponsive, and Tony's patience is wearing thin. He wiggles his ass right in front of him, growing desperate by the second – Tony has never cared about dignity in bed, goddammit – and clearly instructs, “your hand. My ass. Red against white. Do I have to be any clearer, or – ”

Steve's hand rises up, and then _slams_ back against Tony's bottom.

Tony gasps, the sudden hit violent and unexpected; he doesn't even manage to catch his breath again before Steve spanks him again, on the same point, and then _again_ , on the opposite cheek, and then –

Steve's hand lands right on top of his butt-plug, and Tony _screams_.

He's tight, and he hasn't played with his ass in _eleven weeks_ , and he's barely lubricated where the butt-plug sinks suddenly deeper into his body, pushed-in further inside his channel by the sheer strength of Steve's hand. Steve smacks him again, and again, and again, on every inch of his skin covered and not covered by the white lacy panties, and then _back_ against the middle of his buttocks, and Tony's knees tremble and his head falls down against the pillow, forehead pressing into the soft fabric while Steve keeps spanking him like he's really angry at him about something, and Tony _loves_ it.

Tony has missed these sounds; flesh slamming against flesh, air being _cut_ by the quickness of Steve's movements, his own breath catching in his throat and his own blood running thickly into his ears. He gulps down all the air he can get before Steve hits him again where his skin is most tender, and his knees finally give in.

The pain that suddenly explodes in his chest is completely unanticipated, taking him by surprise, and so fucking intense that Tony almost jerks back – and he _would_ , if only Steve stopped spanking him so ferociously -, but all he can do is lay down on his stomach and bite and yelp quietly into the pillow as his poor nipples rub up and down the mattress, the sheer strength of Steve's hits sending his body rocking forward at every slap, and Tony feels like if Steve smacks him one more time, he's absolutely going to cry.

But Steve thankfully recognizes his surrender, and progressively stops his movements. He hums softly under his breath, soothing Tony's reddened skin with gentle touches of his hands, and mutters praise after praise.

Tony can easily guess just how _red_ his ass looks right now. He feels as if the spanking never came to an end; his flesh still tingles where Steve's slapped it for so long, and he has to focus hard on breathing and relaxing before he can stop clenching his muscles so bad.

He lays defeated while Steve takes his phone out from somewhere, and hears the _click_ sound his camera makes when Steve takes a photo of his butt. Tony forces himself to move his own arms and pull his own cheeks apart with trembling hands, so that the red jewel butt-plug inside his body can say hi to the camera, too.

“Fuck, Tony,” Steve mumbles, taking a good grab of his right cheek. Tony moans softly, the pain still too vivid to be ignored; he feels Steve's hands moving gently up and down his skin after he puts his phone away, Steve's thumb stroking the meat of his cheeks with a little too much strength at first and then unbelievably gently, and Tony's ass and nipples are on fucking fire and he really feels like crying for a good hour or two, but he also doesn't want to ruin his make up.

“Let me turn around, honey,” Tony mutters, hurriedly glancing back at Steve. If his nipples rub _one_ more time against the mattress, he's going to scream.

Steve lets him move however he pleases, not asking questions as Tony kisses him slow and deep – even if he _does_ stare at his piercings again for a moment, fascinated by the way the metal reflects the light coming from the chandelier. Tony is on his knees, arms raised to wrap around Steve's neck as he hums softly in the back of his throat when their tongues meet, and Steve's hands find Tony's bottom again and grab a good hold of both of his cheeks. Tony's back arches nicely at the contact, nipples pushing against Steve's chest, and that's when Tony's genius mind decides what they're going to do next.

“Lay down, sugar,” he instructs, collecting a few pillows to put behind Steve's head already. “C'mon.”

Steve eyes him for a second, but he knows better than to protest. He lays down, letting Tony straddle him as he fixes the pillows behind his head, and then Tony smirks down at him and kisses him some more.

Then he turns around again.

Steve blinks as Tony's butt completely invades his vision, still so fucking _red_ underneath those goddamn white lacy panties – but then he can't help but throw his head back when Tony, out of the _fucking_ blue, takes his cock into his mouth.

“Tony,” Steve groans, eyes closed and hands still grabbing the meat of his cheeks.

Tony lets go of his cock with a loud _pop_. “I almost forgot,” he says, like it's nothing, like his ass isn't right in front of Steve's fucking face and he isn't jerking him off wet and quick, “I have something to tell you, darling.”

“What's that?” Steve manages to ask, particularly distracted by the outline of Tony's red jewel butt-plug visible through his panties. He exhales a shaky breath, Tony lowering his head to suck the head of his cock in his mouth for a moment before answering.

“I haven't come in eleven weeks,” Tony blurts out.

Steve pushes against his butt-plug, listening to the lovely gasp Tony lets out at that. And _then_ realizes what he's just said.

“ _What_?”

“I just said I haven't come in eleven weeks,” Tony repeats, eyes squeezing down on their own as he feels Steve's cock twitch in his fist – and is instantly aroused by it. God, he's so fucking _horny_ , he could come just from hearing Steve's breathless voice and feeling his spams. “Be – be mindful of that. I want to come with your cock deep inside me, yeah, honey? Don't let me come before then.”

Steve groans softly in reply, and Tony takes that as an affirmative noise and gets back at relaxing his throat and swallowing down his dick.

He can feel Steve's hesitation; his hands are trembling where they're pushing the fabric of Tony's panties aside, his breath warm and quick where it's grazing at Tony's skin. His fingers hold onto the edges of his butt-plug, pushing it slowly out of his body; staring at Tony's hole as it clenches around the metal sliding smoothly against his folds, and then swallowing it back down when Steve pushes it in again.

He pulls at one of Tony's cheek with his free hand as the other one keeps thrusting the butt-plug gently in and out of his body, never letting it completely out before sliding it back in. Tony's skin is mostly dry and Tony is moaning quietly around his cock, letting his discomfort be known, and Steve takes pity on him and finally pulls the butt-plug out of his hole.

His breath catches in his throat.

He's fingered Tony many, _many_ times, rimmed him even more, and _fucked_ him almost to a world-record number of times just in a row – but Tony has never, _ever_ been so tight before.

Tony must feel his eyes on him – and he sure can feel Steve's hands pulling on either side of his hole, not quite touching it, but exposing it so much that there's no _way_ he doesn't feel at least a little bit vulnerable – , and he turns around a little to try and glance at him. Steve meets his eyes before they go back to his cock, finding sucking his dick better than receiving any embarrassing praise, and the look he gives them is one of utter adoration.

“Tony, you're the person with the highest libido I've ever met,” he says, so serious that Tony has to try his best not to chuckle right in the middle of a blow job. “How did you manage to be so _good_ for me?”

Tony thinks of the love letters Steve's sent him almost on a daily basis while he was at the hospital, even as he keeps blowing him and doesn't acknowledge his words; thinks of the flowers, of the drawings, of all the little things Steve's sent him in the last two months to make him feel loved and supported even while they were apart. He thinks of the roses, of the _I love you_ s, of the portraits; there's one where Tony is smiling softly at whoever's watching, eyes gentle and lips full, his unbelievably kind soul completely bared and so clear to Steve's gaze. The caption just underneath it reads _the love of my life_ , and Tony will never admit it, but he's cried for _so long_ just staring at it, feeling his heart swell with love and serenity and everything he's never had before Steve.

He loves him so _much_.

Steve kisses the back of his thighs, both of them, allowing him his silence, and Tony feels his light beard scratch at his skin in the best way possible. He relaxes his throat as much as he can, and deepthroats him slowly but determinedly; he feels Steve's cock slide down his throat inch after inch, and he forces himself to breathe through his nose and keep a solid grip of Steve's legs for balance, thinking that Steve deserves it. Steve deserves it all.

He keeps completely still for as long as he can, his lips circling the base of Steve's cock, before he has to lift his head again and take a huge gulp of air back into his lungs. He jerks Steve's cock off with his hand until his throat stops hurting so bad, collecting the precome at the tip of his dick and spreading it around, even if Steve's cock is already so wet with Tony's own saliva that there's really no need for it. He cups his balls and mouths at them, too, as he regains his breath, and Steve just groans from behind him.

“So fucking _good_ ,” Steve grunts, and then _finally_ pulls Tony's cheeks apart and starts eating him out. Tony moans around his cock as Steve's tongue licks a long line across his hole, rubbing flat against his skin, teasing the edges of his opening and breathing hot air against his entrance; his thumb rubs gently around his hole when he pulls momentarily away, soothing the skin there before his tongue is back at probing at it, trying to push in deeper as he waits for Tony's muscles to relax and give in.

His hands are pushing Tony's cheeks apart, keeping hold of his panties so that they don't bother him as he sucks lightly at Tony's hole, and Tony whimpers loudly when Steve smacks one of his buttocks again once, _twice_ , and then massages his sore skin gently to soothe it after the new hits.

Tony runs his tongue up and down Steve's length as Steve finally pushes his own in, Tony's muscles finally relaxing around his tongue as it slides deeper inside him, lubricating the tight passage with his saliva. He keeps at it until Tony is barely able to keep blowing him at a steady pace, and then finally releases the hold he had on one of his cheeks as he gently pushes one of his fingers inside him.

Tony groans loudly as both Steve's tongue and fingers start working him open now, gently but determinedly, slowly but surely. He's still so tight, he would _kill_ for some proper lube, but the pain is so sweet. He'll never have enough of it.

“Steve,” he moans, letting his head fall against his hip. His nipples brush against the lowest part of Steve's stomach, and he lets out a broken whimper. He's aching _everywhere_ ; his thighs are trembling with the effort to keep still as Steve fucks him with his tongue, his ass is on fire where Steve keeps kneading it and spanking it, his nipples are begging for some fucking mercy and his head is spinning and his throat is sore and his mouth is tired. It's absolutely _perfect_.

Steve suddenly bites on his right cheek, unprompted and unexpected; Tony's body rocks forward as he lets out a high-pitched squeal, but Steve grabs him right by the thighs and _pulls him_ back in place. Tony cries out in pain, shocked by his _own_ noises leaving his mouth, and thinks this might be the best fuck of his entire life. Steve's being possessive and violent and _fierce_ , and Tony will need a good week of rest before he can even _think_ of walking anywhere. Also a fuckton of soothing lotion.

Steve puts a little distance between himself and Tony's body for a moment, glancing curiously at what all his efforts have made of him. What he sees does _not_ disappoint him.

Tony's hole is tight, and wet, and _shiny_ , and gaping slightly back at him.

Steve groans at the sight and Tony tries to jerk him off in response, he _really_ does, he wraps his hand around Steve's cock and tries to give it a few good tugs, but – but Steve is fucking him with two fingers now as he's basically _dry_ , pushing them down to the knuckles, taking them completely out of his hole and then thrusting them back in, _ramming_ his index and middle finger in and out of his hole as Tony whimpers and writhes and sobs desperately and –

His make up is ruined. God _dammit_.

He's just going to open his mouth and tell Steve to go to hell, the discomfort his body's going through suddenly not so important anymore – _that took him two hours, alright!_ – when Steve, anticipating his protest like the fucking bastard he is, just straight-up runs his hands up his stomach, stopping just shy of his nipples – a fucking bastard, alright, but _such_ a considerate one – , and pulls him up in just _one_ quick motion.

Tony barely has the time to blink before Steve hoists him _up_ his face, keeping his body steady by grabbing both of his hips firmly and pushing his body down to encourage Tony to relax his muscles and, well, let himself sit comfortably on Steve's face. Tony lets out a soft gasp as Steve's tongue slides back inside his hole, flicking in and out of his tight entrance before Tony's brain even catches up on what's going on, his hands so warm and possessive against his skin where they stroke up and down his chest, his stomach, his hips, gripping the back of his thighs so hard he'll leave bruises, grazing at his nipples and pinching them harshly when Tony tries to not let his whole weight fall to Steve's face.

But then he gives in, Steve's fingers twisting his nipples way too insistent to be ignored, and, just like that – Tony is riding his face. Completely, utterly, unreservedly _riding his face_ , chasing his own pleasure, rocking his hips back and forward and pressing back against Steve's tongue, panting out all the _ah, ah, ah_ 's that Steve's mouth and fingers are relentlessly forcing out of him, and not regretting a single second of it. Tony pushes the front of the panties to the side of his cock as much as he can so that his dick can finally spring free from their hold, and he _knows_ that the elastic will probably be stretched to the point of no return by the time they're done with how hard the both of them are pulling at it by both ends, but Tony just can't bring himself to care. He throws his head back, covers Steve's hands with his own – their fingers immediately intertwine, Steve showing his love and support just by doing that –, and lets himself _feel_.

“ _God_ , Steve,” he moans, almost failing to keep his torso up, but both of Steve's hands are instantly there to keep him steady as his body starts bending down forward on its own accord, muscles of his thighs spasming just because of how fucking _good_ all this feels. Tony lets his weight be supported by Steve's hands, and presses back against them with his own before arching his back a little, finding Steve's arms blindly behind himself – anchoring himself to the safety of his limbs. “I'm gonna come as soon as you put your dick inside me, I swear to – ”

One of Steve's hand suddenly joins his mouth, releasing its hold on the side of Tony's chest, and – Tony has absolutely no idea of _how_ Steve does it, especially with so little room to move his arm as he has, but he slides _one_ fucking finger inside him and curls it up and hits his prostate just once, so _hard_ , and –

Tony's own hand shoots down to his cock, gripping it so tight at the base that it fucking hurts worse than his beat-up butt and his tortured nipples and his fucked-out throat and _everything else_ , but he really, _really_ doesn't want to come like this. He lets out what vaguely sounds like a legit growl, and scratches at Steve's arms like a fucking animal as he struggles to break free from his hold.

But Steve won't let him go without a fight, and only drives his fingers – _two_ , now – more forcefully up into his body, grazing at his so, _so_ sensitive bundle of nerves with each thrust of his hand, ramming them right into his prostate to the point that Tony's stomach muscles spasm _hard_ and his body falls forward, one of Tony's hand grabbing Steve's hip to keep his balance and the other one squeezing at the base of his cock so harshly that Tony yelps in pain, desperately trying to squirm away from Steve's hold as Steve's other hand grips one of his hips so fiercely that it takes just that, just _one_ of his hands, to keep Tony still and bound and _sobbing_ right there where he wants him.

“Steve,” Tony begs, his orgasm so _close_ and the goddamn eleven weeks of restraint feeling like a hundred right now, his cock twitching and his thighs and stomach contracting painfully again, “ _Steve_ , let me go, please, _please_ , I can't – ”

Steve slaps him right across his chest.

The pain that shoots right through one of his already abused nipples shocks Tony out of his tantrum, stealing the breath from his lungs like a goddamn punch to his stomach, making his eyes widen and his mouth open in a silent cry for mercy. Tony completely loses his balance as Steve releases his hold on him, falling gracelessly to his knees and elbows across Steve's body, forehead pressing into the mattress in between Steve's legs and his lower lip quivering as he slowly, barely blinks, and doesn't even register letting out a loud, wet sob.

Steve strokes his back gently, his hand warm and soothing as it trails up and down his spine lovingly, muttering gentle little praises that Tony just can't hear from where he only feels his blood running through his ears. And Tony simply lets himself cry and whimper and tremble, heart swelling up with love and hands shaking lightly where they're grabbing desperately at the sheets; Steve knows just what he needs. He gives him the love letters, the flowers, the portraits, the pleasure, the pain, and Tony _loves him_. Loves him so much that it hurts.

“You're so good to me, sweetheart,” Steve says gently, pressing a kiss to his spine as he hoists himself up, trailing kisses down his shoulders as he sits back up on the bed. “Turn around for me. You're doing so good, darling.”

Tony feels each of his limbs tremble as he does as he's asked, sniffling quietly to himself as he turns around slowly to face Steve again. His make up is probably such a mess, by now.

“You're so beautiful,” Steve murmurs, like he's able to fucking read his mind. He cups his jaw by both sides with his hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs as he pulls Tony into a kiss, and hums softly against his mouth as he lets Tony hold onto his shoulders as desperately as he feels the need to.

Tony finds the strength to chuckle somewhere deep within himself, moving his hands across his own face as soon as Steve pulls away from their kiss. He's not pleased with the faint traces of black he sees on his hands when he dares to glance at them, but Steve immediately covers them with his own and holds them gently to bring them away from Tony's eyes, kissing him again.

_Oh fuck, to hell with it_ , Tony thinks, and grins lazily against Steve's mouth. “You really had to make such a mess of me, uh?” He says, brushing his nose against Steve's and chuckling wetly against his lips. “Are you pleased with yourself?”

“I think I'm more pleased with _you_ ,” Steve says, the fucking romantic, kissing down his chin and then down his throat. Tony hums in agreement, throwing his head back to leave him more room, rolling his hips against Steve's. “I think we're done with the panties for tonight. Don't you think so?” He asks, sniffling quietly one last time and wiping his face off for good. “Get me out of them, come on. Don't want to ruin them when I come all over myself in approximately the next five seconds.”

Steve snorts, still kissing away at his throat, but his hands do travel down the sides of his torso until they get a hold of the white, lacy fabric, sliding it slowly down Tony's legs. Tony offers the bare minimum amount of cooperation to help Steve undress him, but Steve still manages to slide the panties off him within the blink of an eye and then, like it's a normal thing to do, _fold them_ and push them into a further angle of the bed.

“What,” he says, as Tony just blinks at him. “I don't want them to get ruined. I – ”

Tony absolutely jumps him, pressing a kiss to his mouth just to shut him up before he can say anything else. “You _fucking_ – just get inside of me, _please_ ,” he groans, letting himself fall back to the mattress and bringing Steve down with him, more exasperated than he's felt in the past eleven weeks.

Steve bites tenderly at his lower lip and snorts to himself, stroking up Tony's hips with both hands. “Hurry _up_ ,” Tony urges him, sinking his fingers into his hair and wetting his lips with his tongue as he feels his hole clench hard around nothing, desperate for Steve to fill him up again after _months_.

Steve hushes him with a kiss, pulling away from his body just for as long as it takes him to grab the lube from the bedside table; Tony sighs out happily when he hears the familiar sound of the lube bottle being opened and then squeezed, and lets himself close his eyes and rest his head for a second as he waits for Steve to be done.

He tries to calm himself down in the meanwhile; he doesn't want to ruin it all and literally come as soon as Steve enters him, but he's just so desperate. He's wanted this for so long that he feels legitimately _hungry_ for it, as if he's been starved for weeks and someone just put a _huge_ , wonderful pizza margherita right in front of his eyes. It's just unfair.

“I won't last,” he mumbles, opening his eyes again. “Just letting you know.”

Steve smiles down at him, expression fond and reassuring and he leans down to kiss him. Tony feels his fingers probe at his hole again, easily making their way in and lubing up his entrance with zero effort, carefully avoiding his prostate as he pushes his fingers in deeper. Tony's glad – it's already hard not to come on the spot as it is, thank you very much.

“You're still so tight,” Steve says against his lips, still driving his fingers deep in and out of his body. Tony throws his head back again, gasping softly as he finally feels Steve's knuckles pressing right against his opening, and huskily replies, “then you'd better hurry up and stretch me wide again, sugar.”

Steve doesn't reply, more than just used to Tony's complete lack of patience by now. He still takes his time, though, pushing his fingers in and out of him slowly, then a little quicker, and finally much faster, until Tony's panting softly while staring up into Steve's eyes, completely unashamed.

Tony briefly, distantly thinks of how much of a strange pair they make. Steve's easily embarrassed when out of the bedroom, caste and completely reserved about his sex life; he cannot dirty talk for the life of his, and always lets his actions speak for himself – whereas Tony, instead, is all clever talking and desperate begging and shameless desire, always up for literally _anything_ , the biggest freak you'll ever meet. He could finger himself on top of the Stark Tower in front of the whole city – or the whole world, if it's the case – and not even feel distantly uneasy. There are literal videos of him on the internet where he's sexing whoever comes close enough to him during an orgy, either doing the fucking or receiving the fucking, and he's never been ashamed of any of those. If anything, he's glad that the whole world can see how great an ass he's got.

Steve was so _disgusted_ with him at the beginning. Luckily, Tony's got pretty good convincing skills.

“Can't wait 'til you ram that big super-soldier dick inside me,” Tony says lazily, his eyes still closed, just to piss Steve off because he won't fucking hurry up. “Have you ever thought about slamming it on Thanos' head? Pretty sure that would make a _great_ weapon. God knows you can slam it on _my_ head whenever you feel like it – ”

“Tony,” Steve sighs, cutting him off. Tony just opens his eyes again, smirking up at him as he spreads his legs wide.

“I'm just eager, honey,” he mutters, fucking himself down on Steve's fingers. They're still scissoring and pointedly avoiding his prostate, making room for his cock, but _goddammit_ , Tony's had enough. “Want you balls-deep inside me, Steve. Want you to fuck me hard and fast until I'm begging you to stop,” he says, just trying to burn some anxious energy, “want you to choke me while you pound me 'til I fucking _pass out_ , want you to bite me and kiss me and – ”

Steve's fingers finally leave his entrance, and Tony interrupts himself as his blood leaves his brain too fast for him to finish his own sentence. “Oh yeah, oh _fuck_ yeah, finally,” he groans, not even thinking about dignity, already moving onto his hands and knees to get Steve to fuck him as deep as he can. “Never been so horny before. I swear to god. Steve, _honey_ , please be a dear and just stick it inside me, alright – ”

If it continues like this, Tony won't be able to finish _one_ fucking sentence by the time they're done. Steve grabs him by his shoulder and by one of his hips and just like that, he effortlessly turns him back to where he was before, his back against the mattress; Tony loves being manhandled like that, but he also loves deep penetration, so his cock is momentarily very confused by all that.

“Steve,” he whines, writhing on the bed like he's putting on a show, and instead just being one hundred percent his slutty regular self. “ _Please_.”

He opens his legs so wide that he feels his thighs burning, his muscles unused to the sudden stretch. He raises the small of his back so it doesn't push against the mattress, his body in perfect position for Steve to just fucking settle between his legs and pound the goddamn life out of him already, his fists closing around the sheets and his chest rising and falling quickly with all the impatient pace of his breathing; he feels like he's gonna _die_ if Steve doesn't fuck him in the next three seconds.

Steve groans as he takes him in, gaze adoring where it lingers across every inch of Tony's body. He finally, _finally_ settles between Tony's thighs, pushing a pillow behind the small of his back to support his weight and keep him in position without Tony having to tire himself out, and then leans down to kiss him before leaning towards the bedside table, presumably thinking of wearing a condom.

Tony grabs at his arm like an animal, nails sinking into Steve's skin fiercely. “Don't even think about it,” he snaps, staring right into Steve's eyes.

Steve is definitely used to what a fucking untamed beast Tony is in the bedroom, so he barely flinches as he takes his arm back and lets himself be pulled down by Tony's hand against the back of his neck, meeting his lips half-way and kissing him within an inch of his life. Tony pushes himself up to roll his hips against Steve's, letting out a few quiet moans as their cocks slide against one another and desperately urging Steve to get a move on before he tragically dies – young, handsome, and horribly, unreasonably robbed of an amazing orgasm.

He's going to start and beg him again when he finally feels the head of Steve's cock pressing against his entrance; his legs instantly become jelly, thighs falling apart and lips already parting to moan out loud even as Steve is still kissing him. The poor soul knows Tony like the back of his hand, though, and the first thing he does is grab at one of his legs and bring it up to lay on one of his shoulders; Tony lets himself be bent in half if that's what it takes to keep kissing Steve, even with how difficult that is now because he just can't bring himself to stop gasping and moaning every few seconds – especially since Steve keeps alternating his gaze between Tony's face and nipple piercings when he pulls momentarily away from his lips, staring at the tiny metal orbs at the sides of his nipples as they catch and reflect the light from the chandelier again. Steve leans down to mouth at his chest, kissing one of his nipples and then flicking his tongue reverently at the scar tissue around Tony's arc reactor, and _no_ , Tony's definitely not going to last; his cock _hurts_ because of how hard it is, and because of how little Tony's actually touched it – tonight's protagonist has only been his butt, to be honest, and while Tony is resolutely _not_ complaining, he also feels the desperate need to give his dick a good tug.

So naturally, he wraps his hand around his cock and jerks it off once, twice –

Steve's hand grabs his wrist so forcefully that Tony gasps in pain, and _slams_ his fist back to the mattress.

Tony's back arches off the bed as Steve simultaneously bites at his throat and thrusts harder inside of him, fingers of one hand pressing sharply against the meat of his thigh while his other hand keeps Tony's wrist glued to the mattress with way too much strength; he's going to leave bruises all over his skin, going to press his fingerprints right into his bones, going to –

Tony throws his head back, pleasure too intense to be fought; Steve keeps biting at his throat as Tony's body arches up beautifully again, angling his hips so that he drills his cock right into Tony's prostate, and Tony's free hand trembles where it's desperately clutching to Steve's back, hopelessly trying to keep itself away from his cock –

But Tony's patience and self-restraint has never been as good as Steve's, so his free hand remains still for the entirety of ten full seconds before desperately shooting down to wrap around his dick like the other one had done before; or it _would_ if only Steve hadn't already anticipated its movement, grabbing it by the wrist as soon as it flies down, pressing it down against the mattress with the other one as Tony's legs fall apart again and Tony lets out a broken whimper of utter, undefeatable frustration –

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease _please_ ,” Tony begs, body rocking forward with the sheer force of Steve's thrust and his cock _aching_ for attention. Steve just bites harder into his throat, leaning down across his body so low that his stomach rubs along Tony's cock once, _twice_ before Steve realizes that it's happening and leans a little higher, the absolute _bastard_ – and Tony throws his head back and _sobs_ as Steve keeps drilling his cock into his body, thrusting it in and out of his hole so fast and hard and unrelenting that it _hurts_ , and Tony's legitimately struggling to break free of Steve's hold because it's too much, everything is too much, there's too much pain and too much pleasure and he can't – he _can't_ –

Something explodes deep inside his stomach, his vision blacks out, his limps go completely slack and, just like that, Tony's finally coming.

Steve doesn't even jerk him off through it; Tony comes utterly untouched, Steve still fucking him through it, and Tony's pretty sure he's going to faint as he shoots his load so high that some streams of come land right on his chest. His hole spams around Steve's cock, clenching up so tightly that it definitely pushes Steve over the edge, too; Tony feels every bead of his come as Steve fills him up, emptying himself inside him to the very last drop, and Tony feels himself be shaken by a full-body tremble as he slowly comes down from the rush, panting and shaking and waiting for his heart to stop hammering like that.

Steve's hands are still gripping his wrists _hard_ , and it feels like a goddamn anchor in the middle of the ocean.

“I love you,” Tony blurts out, even if comes out sounding like a broken sob. “I love you so damn much.”

He can't see Steve's face, because his forehead is pressed in between Tony's neck and shoulder, but he can hear him mutter the words back. Their stomachs are rising and falling fast one against the other where they're pressed so _close_ together, Steve's breath is caressing Tony's warm, damp skin, and Tony feels complete for the _first time_ in eleven weeks.

He doesn't know for how long they keep laying there, pressed tight against each other, content and sated and finally satisfied, but he knows that when Steve lets go of his wrists, they hurt so _good_ that he can't help but smile. Steve lifts his head up, sees his lips curl into a ecstatic smile, and smiles back at him softly.

He kisses him gently, lovingly, massaging the reddened skin of his wrists as he slowly pulls out of his body. Tony immediately clenches up, not willing to let any drop of Steve's come escape from his hold, and kisses him back with all that he's got.

He licks his lips as soon as they pull apart, and his smile quickly turns into a smirk.

“Round two?”

Steve only grins back.

**Author's Note:**

> Please say a Hail Mary on your way back for me


End file.
